

Class - 
Book. 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 

















. 























































































• 



















































A 



















* 



































































































* 











. 


























































































































































































































































































































































































- 
































































































































v 













































6 tt*r**Q&*t 


S IN 


MEMORY 

of 

M.G.F.B. 


One Hundred Copies 
Privately Printed 








io 




Copyright, 1919 

BY 

THE KNICKERBOCKER PRESS 



f 




«> 

« 


« 

« < 

S' 


f or %<rr 


J 

Ai’ti -3 1919 

©CLA51280S 





Contents 


PAGE 

Exemption 7 

The Gulf Stream . . . .11 

Triumph 15 

The Blind Man . . . .19 

The Ferment 23 

Our Little System's Sun . . 27 

Recollections . . . . 31 

Leonardo 35 

The Dispossessed . . . .39 

Converse of the Night . . .43 
The Disappearing Dead . . *47 

Your Losses 51 

To Think of It! . . . . 55 

The Signals of the Dead . . 59 

Had I — 63 

Naught Counts the Calendar . . 67 

[3] 


Contents 


PAGE 

Your Grave 71 

At the End . .75 

Winchester . . . . 79 

Justice . . . . . .83 

The Caviare 87 

Anticipation 91 

June 95 

The Kindred Stars ... . .99 


[4] 
































A LL day amid the greedy multitude 

I stand alert, intent to take and hold, 
Yet keep from stain an honor still un- 
sold 

Despite seductions plausible or crude. 

And count it gain if I by chance elude 
The pitfalls of a world in evil old, 

Whose snares as subtle grow as manifold, 
And see the day without defeat conclude. 

At night I seek the ordered vacant room 
You hallowed with your beauty, love, and 
cheer. 

To find exemption there for every wrong; 
Your clear courageous presence fills the gloom; 

My heart uplifted knows that you are near, 
And I go from you comforted and strong. 


[9l 





The Gulf Stream 







A N isle there is that breasts assaulting 
seas 

In latitudes of icy Labrador, 

Around which deep Atlantic currents pour 
Warm waters streaming from beyond the 
keys 

Of Florida, to make the English leas, 

Full fields and gardens linked from shore 
to shore, 

With breed of stubborn men who gather 
more 

Than yield the lands of palm and olive trees. 

So flowed your love around my selfishness, 
With such effects as had they holier source, 
And wrought its miracles with patient skill; 

It flattered as a tempered air's caress 
When all essaying nature has recourse 
To mien urbane, wherewith to work its will. 



















Triumph 


[ 15 ] 


I 













I F death conclusive is, the term of all 

We think we are, is life then but a jest? 
Or is it justified if we may wrest 
From death the dignity however small 
Of standing unafraid against a wall 
To be shot down at destiny's behest, 

Not sure but hoping we have sought the 
best 

And answered as we should at duty's call? 

Not such a meagre triumph yours in death 
Which but material things disintegrates. 
And has no power to touch a deed achieved. 
Let pass, a last thin sigh, your latest breath — 
Remains the Heaven a soul by faith creates, 
When action sorts with every good conceived. 







The Blind Man 


( 19 1 





'^v 











A S one struck blind between the dusk 
and dawn. 

To whom the first succeeding days 
appear 

But night prolonged — nor wholly void of 
cheer 

Because of friends a little closer drawn 
And services of quick compassion born. 

So was it when the parting still was near, 
When death's finality extinguished fear, 
And I was left bereaved but not forlorn. 

But later, when the blind man sits alone 
Through leaden hours of dull recurring days, 
He counts his loss and longs for night and 
sleep ; 

So now I reckon what was once my own, 

The riches of your golden love appraise, 
And know the lost was all I cared to keep. 


[21] 












The Ferment 


[23] 







W HEN I consider how your love pre- 
vailed 

Within the compass of the field you 
tilled; 

With fruits delectable your garden filled. 
That never any guest went unregaled. 

And made an Eden evil scarce assailed, 

As harbinger of what of old was willed 
For restless men when greedy lusts are 
stilled, 

I see the good estates to men entailed. 

Transcendent souls are God's persistent yeast, 
A constant ferment in the monstrous mass, 
Which slowly shall be leavened through and 
through, 

Until — outgrown the snatchings of the beast — 
Is seen, as brute predispositions pass, 

How Christ was wiser than the wisest knew. 







Our Little System’s Sun 


[ 27 ] 









O H, golden heart, our little system’s sun, 
So prodigal of life’s essential need, 
The love which quickens as it sows 
the seed 

For harvests only by its nurture won! 

Oh, heart of gold, through all our courses run 
In errant paths we could not choose but 
heed 

The binding law the greater love decreed, 
That ever its benignant will be done. 

Dear vivifying light which gave release 
To latent good inert in under gloom. 

Your alchemy transmuted undenied. 

Within your house was pale of lasting peace. 
A trysting place became your tranquil 
room, 

Where hearts were eased and souls were 
satisfied. 


[29] 



Recollections 





[ 31 ] 














A S grateful as thick links of ductile gold 
Wrenched from a feudal seignior’s 
cincture chain. 

To thud in palm where seldom gold had 
lain, 

As guerdon for a tale supremely told; 
Delicious as the honeyed sequence rolled 
In throat of wood thrush, whose infrequent 
strain 

Falls as the first big drops of tardy rain, 
Which comes to succor thirsting woods and 
wold — 

No moments I recall as sweeter far, 

Nor can I summon fit similitudes 
For more emotion than accrues by sense; 
Each precious memory stands out a star 
Against the desolating dark which broods 
As customary night since you went hence. 


1 33 1 













Leonardo 


[ 35 i 




G OD must have loved that Leonardo 
whose 

Report bespeaks an intellect as clear 
And balanced as a shining crystal sphere; 
Who never ceased to follow nature's clues. 
And all discovered as a master use, 

That in his art her touch should reappear; 
Whose dateless youth forbade an age austere, 
And let not avarice his soul confuse. 

Your quest was not of nature's occult ways 
Nor more of subtleties germain to art, 

Yet you like Leonardo were too fine 
To disregard the depths beyond the phase; 

As he knew nature so you knew the heart, 
And lanterns to our feet your spirits shine. 






The Dispossessed 


[ 39 ] 






O HEART of me that death hath plucked 
away. 

To leave an habitation's empty shell! 
Where dearest presences were wont to dwell 
But cheerless solitudes the soul dismay. 

As though a dispossessed alone should stray 
Through cloisters tenantless, where yet the 
spell 

Of sanctity in every vacant cell, 

Recalls too cruelly another day. 

My loss is love whose date was ever spring; 

A later beauty matching beauty's bloom, 
And harmonies but mated souls reveal. 

Now these my precious memories I bring 
As garlands for my heart's relentless tomb, 
Which love can consecrate but not unseal. 



Converse of the Night 





















D EAR heart, when I in converse of the 
night, 

With all an old man's memories, 
recall 

Life's veiled vicissitudes, how they befell, 
As some by fate, yet never any quite 
Without connivance of the shaping right 
We exercise through will, which touches all, 
I see how we to ill ourselves enthrall 
And waste our happiness in God's despite. 

You gave no latitude to evil's sway; 

Conserving freedom and discerning good, 
You walked in gaiety the paths of peace, 

As high sincerity and courage may. 

When amplest liberty is understood 
As self's surrender for the soul's release. 





The Disappearing Dead 


[ 47 ] 















W HEN all is weighed, and faith's asser- 
tion urged 

To uttermost, the disappearing dead 
Remain as never-heard -from ships, whose 
bed 

Is ocean's floor, a downward league submerged. 
The poignant grief in stricken hearts that 
surged 

May age to irresilience of lead. 

Yet by no sign the soul that craves be fed 
Although of less desires by famine purged. 

How little count my fortune’s bettered state; 
That once insistent cares have ceased to 
fret; 

That I your sowing harvest day by day. 
Unshared by you all bounties come too late; 

Denied my vanished best, can I forget 
That death has torn the heart of joy away? 


1 49 1 



















# 


Your Losses 









[51] 



























I SORROW not so much for loss sustained, 
Lost vision of your love-illumined face, 
The hopeless absence or the vacant place, 
All good less good and erring less restrained, 
Depletion everywhere and naught regained, 
As for your losses — you who culled a grace 
From every aspect, knew in each to trace 
A thought divine in any guise that feigned. 

It flowered for you, the rose of happiness, 

In hues as frank as signally refined — 

By tillage wise life's tenure made worth while. 
Should I assume your pleasures now are less 
Because I can not limn the mystic lined 
Escutcheon of your present rank and style? 














To Think of It! 


[ 55 1 








T O think of it! — to triumph all the way 
Through life's adventure, winning 
hearts at will. 

And with accruing years possessing still 
A zest for never failing charm at play 
Seducing confidence, and making gay 
The little world your presence seemed to fill 
With fragrance only blooms of grace distil 
And harmonies that never went astray! 

And yet your habits all were dutiful; 

You ever strove to turn the edge of wrong 
And make appear the surer strength of right. 
So all our memories are beautiful, 

And reassuring as a faultless song 
Which floats on silence of a sleepless night. 


[57 1 



















4 

The Signals of the Dead 


1 59 1 







t 


L AST night a firefly flashed its lantern 
small, 

With intermitting gleams which puls- 
ing flung 

Soft phosphorescent beams from where it 
hung 

On solid darkness of my chamber wall, 

As ships at night to one another call; 

And, watching it, came fantasies which 
clung 

Insistently, while intuitions sung 
Of things by vision known or not at all. 

We used to read how Roecus, flushed with 
wine, 

Beat off his dryad's monitory bee, 

And learned too late how souls are vision fed. 
Had not I learned that living star of mine 
Was flashing messages from you to me, 
Could I construe the signals of the dead? 






« 




















Had I 

% 








[63] 


































H AD I the eastern mystic’s soul profound ; 
The gifts that made the Greeks so 
subtly great; 

The massive power which built the Roman 
state; 

Could I see whole all learning’s spacious round 
And sift for fruitful use the monstrous mound 
Of scholarship, so might I then create 
A masterpiece, supreme, immaculate, 

As witness of my love’s sufficient ground. 

Not less your excellence because my skill 
Inadequate in limitation stands. 

Nor less the love which proved a spirit’s stay. 
That I unable have such hunger still 
To satisfy that love’s unstilled demands 
Should my incompetence in part outweigh. 


[65] 











4 


Naught Counts the Calendar 


[67] 










A YEAR has passed — in computation less 
Compared to time's eternal flux of 
years 

Than staunchest manhood's scant reluctant 
tears 

To all the waters of the sea's excess 
In nameless worlds whose numbers none assess; 
And yet one devastating moment sears 
To ash life's patient work, and disappears 
The weave of wisdom, joy and tenderness. 

Naught counts the calendar; but yesterday 
Grew cold in mine your dear caressing 
hand; 

Or has there passed since then an endless age? 
In questioning but grows the soul's dismay; 

Hope lies in what we cannot understand. 
As only dreams our holy griefs assuage. 


[69] 




Your Grave 




I 7i 1 








A LOCUST tall and wide magnolia shade 
The turf about your grave, and on the 
grey 

Engraven stone transparent shadows play, 
As there these sonnets sedulously made 
I say to you as though the body laid 
Beneath our wreaths with all death took 
away 

Were re-endowed, death daring not gainsay 
Our love, nor you from harkening dissuade. 

How else my isolation make appear 
Less absolute? The years of confidence 
Which so responsive made our spirits twain, 
Admit of no appeal to one less dear. 

The better things to which I make pretence 
Are told to you or else unsaid remain. 


[73l 













I 





At the End 





( 75 I 











I F at the end extinction clears the score, 

Let death deliver me from gross disgrace. 
As mocked by faiths finalities erase 
And shamed by troublings the Gods ignore. 
Should death as constable lead me before 
The fount of Justice — so I see that face 
I quarrel not with my allotted place 
Though I my registry must needs deplore. 

Your faith admitted not of doubt or fear; 

I only know, should I as I persist, 

A large adventure waits. I challenge it. 

But ask that when the herald's call I hear 
My needs shall courage of today enlist, 
That I go firmly as the Gods permit. 


[77l 




« • 

Winchester 


l 79 1 




























































A T Winchester, that high and holy fane, 
Wherein a living faith devoutly 
wrought 

In lavish imagery its flowered thought, 

The prodigalities superb attain 
To ecstasy in jubilant refrain; 

In perpetuity have fervor caught. 

And certified the sacred thing it sought 
As verity and all beside as vain. 

Had you been with me in the silent choir, 
That age old carven chrysalis of prayer; 
Could hand and eye have met without a word. 
Would not the immemorial altar fire 
And all availing faith as witnessed there 
Have moved me so our visions had concurred? 






Justice 


[ 8 3 ] 
































L ET me not boast that I on justice lean 
My sorry cause, for how can I conceive 
The absolute, admitting no reprieve 
For culprits too untaught to judge between 
Affections, and perfections dimly seen? 

So fallible by blood, can we believe 
We may not losses of the soul retrieve; 
That grace and pity shall not intervene? 

Assenting not, but here we know not why; 
For errors whipped, our dole of pleasures 
small, 

May we not plead — not our affair our fate? 
Brave heart, I could not so your faiths deny, 
For I should lose you then beyond recall, 
Should I your sanctities so desecrate. 


[85] 













The Caviare 


{87] 










































W HEN wheaten bread's abundance 
faileth not 

And purest waters run to waste 

away, 

We crave the caviare and ask array 
Of dainties with concocted liquors hot: 

But when in deserts wide the waters rot 
And drought bakes failing bread as firing 
clay. 

Then wholesome loaves and waters sweet 
we say 

Were worth whatever else a man has got. 

I knew the restlessness of strange desires, 
Which, heedless of the soul's essential need, 
I entertained, if only to disown; 

But now I know the food that love requires, 
As other wants before one want recede, 

To leave me ever longing and alone. 










Anticipation 


I 91 J 






N OT peace I came to send; I send a 
sword — 

So spoke a perspicacity too fine 
To misconceive the catholic design. 

It knew we combatants can not afford, 

Until is won the battle of the Lord, 

Repose or peace whose ease would under- 
mine 

The vigor needed in the fighting line— 
Knew but the ultimate can bring accord. 

Yet you discerned the ultimate, and caught 
A glimpse of glory of fruition born, 
Dayspring of futures indeterminate 
Touching the heights whereon your spirit 
sought 

The peace and splendor of the final morn, 
Which only souls like yours anticipate. 



June 


[ 95 ] 


0 








I N quietude I let June's excellence 

Pervade my being's texture through and 
through — 

The canopy of sky, veiled, faintly blue, 
Staid stems of trees, a verdure clean and dense. 
The honeysuckle over bank and fence, 

A humming bird too delicate to view 
Without believing all of elves as true, 

The blindness ours through sheer incom- 
petence. 

And then I wonder — what of you today? 

And how the marvels of your world compare 
With these our meeting eyes enhanced, as 
when 

We marked each beauty all along the way. 

The old and new revealed, nor thought to 
dare 

Mistrust that more awaits than moved us then. 


[ 97 1 


■ 











The Kindred Stars 



[ 99 J 














































































































































































* 




























































































































































































































































v C ; 

.0 < 






> 













































































































































I TRIUMPH over time because endures 
More juvenile the love death could not 
kill; 

The years undone destroy not but fulfill. 
And love perfected as time's toll inures. 

This fee a grace to wash the soul ensures — 
To mend the imperfections of the will 
And discipline the inner eye until 
Lo, new perception old infection cures. 

So love potential grown, and faith that holds 
My God as merciful, sustain my soul 
And penetrate the dusk which gathers fast. 
When soon the deep engulfing dark enfolds, 
Let blaze these kindred stars, the vital 
whole 

Of else a best obliterated past. 


[ ioi J 







































































































































































‘ 


































































































































































































































































» 







































































































































































































*r>; 
























APR 9 1819 



